Tough Break
by arillovesyou22
Summary: Olivia White is a typical New York Broadway star. Her life is preforming. But what happens when an unexpected death is near, a new guy in her life stirs things up pretty well, and on top of it, she's feeding for two. Future fic.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back! Yeah, yeah, I know you probably don't care. Anyway, for the readers who don't know what I mean, I posted a story on Good Luck Charlie called, 'Lemonade Mouth!' Creative name huh? Anyway, I decided I wanted to write another story and I hope you like this one.**

**I know you readers told me to post 'Lemonade Mouth!' onto here, but I don't know how unfortunately. So, if you would be too kind to review it or whatever to tell me, I'd appreciate it. But, other than that, I posted this story on here to entertain you and I cross my fingers and toes you do.**

**Sigh, I don't own any part of Lemonade Mouth... Frown...**

**Hope you enjoy-**

Olivia White strutted down the filthy, run down sidewalk of New York City. The cold air brushing her blond curls out her face, and Olivia took note she should thank her room mate for convincing her to wear her fur coat. Her leather black boots clacked under the cracked concrete as she cursed under her cold breath for taking the rejected side of town.

Her dentist moved side's of town and she had to have her teeth get whitened by this afternoon. It was a good mile away from where her petty body was walking to where she needed to be at, and she desperately needed a taxi cab. She smiled once she spotted the lonely, yellow, small vehicle sitting in traffic closest towards the sidewalk.

Casually, yet greedily, she quickly walked towards the empty cab, taking hold of the handle and soon enough opening the warm car door.

"I'm so sorry ma'am, but I think I received this cab before you did," a man's voice cut her off guard as she was just about to slide in the uncomfortable car. She looked above the yellow hood, and spotted a man.

He, like her, was grabbing hold of the yellow cab's door. His red, ginger, tomato like hair was shagged but usual in New York City. He wore a black suit with a matching black tie. She blinked, he was obviously new to New York. She concluded quickly for a second he was from out of town. Certainly, because city folk was never this polite; especially not directed towards situation like this.

"I'm sorry, _sir," _she stretched out the greeting. No one has called her ma'am except her manager, Rob. And he was not all that polite as this man. "But I received this cab first. I have a very important place to be right now, and I do not need another thing slowing me down." She put on a fake, now pearly white, sarcastic, smile as she fully opened the cab door that was cracked open, as she slid inside and placed her wallet close to her lap.

She sighed, "1500 Broadway street. It's a big skyscraper, you can't miss it," she orders as she leaned back on the leather, squeaky seats and closed her eyes. The taxi driver didn't respond, only a small grunt in disgust. She just hoped the traffic would clear for her to make it to her show on time.

Seconds later, the sound of the door opening and the cold air hitting her skin made her jerk her eyes open and look towards the source. Their sat the man she was just in conflict with. He placed his briefcase beside him and leaned forwards towards the taxi man's seat.

"8145 Lancaster drive, please?" Her says. Olivia sighs at his politeness once again showing.

"Excuse me sir," Olivia spat. He looked at her and smiled, leaning back on the seat. "You have the audacity to come in here? I received this car before you did now I suggest walking or grabbing another."

Another sigh filled the cab. She was extra crabby that day and was taking it out on this stranger she grew to dislike every time he spoke. It wasn't like her, yelling at men and ordering them around. She was three months pregnant. Her stomach was slightly forming a baby bump, and she did have all the signs of being three months pregnant.

Being anxious about the health of the baby and mostly mood swings. "I'm sorry but I'm in a hurry and I need to get to a meeting-"

"I am in a hurry too, _sir. _I have you know I have a Broadway production tonight and in five minutes I have a very important rehearsal to attend. This show will put me on top."

"A what?" He asks, his head slightly cocked to the right as his brows were furred in.

She looked at him and blinked. What was it about this man that made her blood boil? For starters he didn't know about Broadway. Certainly not from New York she concluded. "Broadway?" She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. He was certainly stressing her. "Don't tell me you never heard of Broadway?"

"I haven't," his voice greeted her ears. Her eyes snapped open and she shifted in her seat to clearly face him.

"Wicked? Mamma Mia? Curtains, Marry Poppins, The Phantom of the Oprah?" He shook his head no. Another small gasp escaped her lips. "You obviously ave no respect for the musical theater of the arts, do you?" He just shrugged, "I have a Broadway show tonight. I'm playing Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Certainly you heard of _that_ classic Disney _show_ haven't you?"

"Look, I just want to go to my meeting-"

"Both of ya, shut the hell up!" A scratchy voice interrupted the two young adults rant. The two, both flabbergasted at the incident turned their heads towards the front of the cab. A man in a black baseball cap sat in the passenger seat with a small gun in his right hand, pointed towards the man in the drivers seat.

"Or I swear to God I'll kill both of ya, and you both won't go to your god for sakin' meetin' or damn Broadway show. 'Cause God knows I aint takin' ya. Get the hell out or I'll shoot ya." He added, his face in disgust.

Olivia felt her heart fall. It wasn't like it was everyday a man in a taxi cab pointed a pistol to a man's head. And certainly not meeting a man who is far to nice yet rude at the same time. She felt her vision blank. Did she get shoot? Did she pass out? All she heard was the car door opening, and several shots ring out. The hearing of screams soon after and she wasn't quite sure if it was her own screams. The feeling of her wrist being pulled tightly frightened her.

Soon enough she shook out her blackened vision and noticed herself running. The ginger she was in conflict at was pulling her wrist, and she was very confused. Looking behind her shoulder she spotted several men, that looked similar to the man in the taxi cab, stood with guns in their hands.

People screamed as more shoots rang out, and she was certain one of them was her own. Turning her head back ahead, she spotted a elderly women lying beside her. A pool of red surrounded her body, as she looked straight ahead. Her body hadn't any motion. And Olivia knew too well she was dead.

As she ran for her life, being pulled by the man she grew to hate, she couldn't help but why? Why was the man she was too rude to helping her? Why was he helping her when she told him to go away and leave her alone?

As they ran, about two blocks away, he let go of her wrist as they stopped next to the bus stop. Olivia bent down, her knees bent as she placed her hands on them, trying to catch her breath. She placed her hand on her stomach, and stood straight, facing the man who saved her life. But still, she had the erg of dislike towards him.

"I do not like to be man handled." She spat, placing both hands on her baby stomach. As he saved her from a bloody, painful grave, she still had a ting of disrespect towards him, and he didn't seem too warming up towards her himself by the looks of it.

The ginger, who was now looking around the city, turned to her with a confused look. "News flash, honey: we where almost man bait."

"I knew you weren't from New York. You're from the West aren't you? People in New York don't say things like that. And who were those people? Why were they trying to kill us?" She asked, trying to catch her breath.

"I don't know. But, where is the nearest police station? We need to report this, as if they don't already know."

She breathed in heavily, "The nearest police station is about a mile from here." She began to shudder. What if she had gotten killed? What if this man didn't get into the cab with her and left as she ordered towards another? She could have very much gotten shot, her baby and herself would not live.

"Let's go then," once again, he took her wrist but she didn't move. She was too in awe. If this man hadn't pulled her aggressively out the cab she would've stayed behind, left to get shot and die. The ginger pulled on her wrist and looked back. Desperate and confused.

"Hello?" He asked all too rudely, and she knew he was warming up to New York already, even if the temperature was below freezing. "We need to report this." She looked at him and swallowed, and hesitantly nodded.

She needed to trust this man, and even if she didn't warm up to him, she needed to soon. "What's your name?"

He turned to her and a, 'are you serious?' look was written on his facial features and she knew he thought she was crazy but she needed to know. He did save her life. "Wha-?"

"I'm Olivia White-" she was cut off by yet another gun shot and more screams though they were distant, she still flinched.

"Ugh," he looked to the distance where they ran from and looked back towards her. "Wen Griffin. Now let's go," he orders. She rolled her eyes.

"I was only trying to be nice," she mutters, but loud enough so he can hear. Without any response he takes hold of her wrist once more, and the two once again run down the streets of New York.

**There you have it. I thought about it hard, I got a lot of positive feedback from my readers and I wanted to write another story but a future fic. I really hope you like it, tell me in a review please!**

**Click the button, it helps Wen and Olivia. (I'm sorry, they hate each other... but not in later chapters.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Don't own Lemonade Mouth. Blah, blah, blah. Reviewing would mean the World.**

"I can't stay under the same roof with this man," Olivia replied sticking her hand out towards Wen's direction as she stood from her seat. She was getting quite annoyed, and it surly didn't help with this stranger rolling his eyes every-time she'd make a remark.

"Look, I know it's different but we need to make sure you two are safely secure." The police women concluded placing her pale hand on her belt as she shifted her weight on her left leg. "It'll only be for a couple of weeks, possibly a month at the max," a small gasp escaped Olivia's trembling lips. "I know honey, it'll be tough," she says in sarcasm, and Wen can't help but chuckle slightly.

Olivia's worry turns to anger. She looks at the police officers in the same room chuckle slightly then back at Wen. "I need to be at my show in," she looks at her phone, "five minutes. This is a major deal for me."

"Sweat heart," The police women places both hands on her shoulders, "Our priority is to keep you safe. If that means locking you two up in a holding booth," she shrugs and releases he shoulders, "So be it."

"Can't you just lock these men up? I mean how hard can it be?"

"Ma'am," Olivia rolls her eyes. "We're trying our best to locate them. Our sources have been tracking these guys for years now."

"What'd they do?" Wen asks, speaking for the third time towards the police officers, being as Olivia spoke the most that day. Olivia turned to him and noticed he looked as stressful as she. His hair was messy, his eyes read exhaustion, and he aura seemed dreadful. His hand was balled in a fist, and his left cheek rested on it comfortably as he sat in the red chair.

The women looked over Olivia's shoulder towards him, "We haven't a clue." She shrugged.

"I..." Olivia stopped and looked out the busy window. The sight of rush hour traffic, the locals and tourists walking on the sidewalk, going in buildings, stuffing their faces, and taking pictures of the sights of the wonderful city. "I should be out their," she mutters silently to herself. The police officers talking amongst themselves and the women talking to Wen who still had a question or two about the men they were in establishment over.

"I know it's going to be different," the women replies, making her loose her thoughts towards her, "but we're doing this out of your safety. These men know where you're headed and could get contact on where you live. We need you safe and secure. Trust me, the place you two will stay won't be different from any other living conditions. Food will be delivered to you and you two will be out of harms way. That is unless you two kill each other."

Olivia turned from the window to face her, and for the first time all day she was speechless. She quietly sat a good three seats away from Wen, who was watching her like all the other police officers. She slumped in her seat and placed a hand on her stomach.

She looked up at the women, "When do we have move in?" She asked sluggish.

Lemonade Mouth- Lemonade Mouth-Lemonade Mouth- Lemonade Mouth-Lemonade Mouth-

She sat cross legged on the white couch and took in her surroundings. It was a small room to live in. Two bed rooms, one bathroom, a living room and a small kitchen. She already placed her suitcases in her room, while Wen was already focused on unpacking.

Standing, Olivia made her way towards her bedroom and sat on the double bed. It wasn't like anything special. A bed, a closet, a dresser, and a night table with a simple lamp. She didn't expect anything special or fancy for that matter.

After she unpacked, Olivia morosely dragged her feet towards the kitchen. It was 6: 00 by now, and she was famished. As she walking into the kitchen which was connected to the small living room she spotted Wen sitting on the white couch she was sitting on an hour ago, but this time the television was on, and he was flipping through the channels.

"Hi," she smiled and stopped, facing him. With all the craziness going on she thought an apology might be in order.

He looked at her and arched a brow. "Ugh, hi?" He says, obviously confused.

"Um," she scratched the back of her head uncomfortably as she on the arm rest. Her body wasn't facing him, but her right half was. She turned her head to face him, "I'm..." she sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just I'm going under a ton of stress already and well, this is one of those stressful moments."

He turned off the television and turned towards her. "I guess I am too," he shrugs.

"It's just... you aren't from around here, are you? I mean, what's your deal?"

"It's called being nice," he replies, "But, no. I'm not, I from Ohio. I'm here on buisness, and I alreay hate this City." She arched a brow, and was about to tell him off about how famous and wounderful this city was, but didn't want to get into it.

"Well," she sighed and stood. "How about dinner?"

"You want me to make you dinner?" He asked nicely with a small laugh.

"No, I was just asking." He shrugged and she walked inside the kitchen. Looking over the bar stool she spots his lips forming a small smile, in which she can't help but smile back. A blush forms on her face when he looks at her and his smile turns into a smirk as he notices her starring.

She fake clears her throat. "Um, they only have mac and cheese? Is that fine?"

"Wait, first your nice to me, now you're making me dinner? What's the catch?"

"N-n catch. I um, I just really want you to forgive me for being so rude I was out of line."

"I forgive you, but that mac and cheeses sounds pretty good right now." He smiles and stands. "In the mean time, running from killers sure does make you sweat." He laughs nervously as a small pink creeps on his face. "I'm just going to take a shower."

She nods and giggles at how uncomfortable he's feeling. "Okay, that's fine."

He takes a moment and just stares at her, and she blushes because the room is too small and too awkward for her to bare. Soon enough he turns his heels and walks down the small hallway towards the bathroom.

Olivia, who's now blushing like mad, brings her hand to her forehead and sighs. "I'm so stupid." She mutters under her breath.

**Sigh, I'm sorry It's a rough start, but I'm never really good with beginnings. I just hope you liked it. At least they don't hate each other anymore! Ideas would be love. Also reviews. If you don't have an account I don't mind. Just click the review button and say what you think. **

**Really, I don't mind if you say this story blows, just any type of comment is alright with me. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for my reviews. Even though it's not many, I don't care. I smiled, and I appreciate them. Also, thanks for the help. I really didn't know Wen's last name so I guessed. Sorry for the confusion and mix up.**

**Don't own it, never will.**

He couldn't sleep. It was 2 in the morning and he was wide awake. Yes, he was drop dead tired. But he could never really sleep in new places, especially one where he knows he could be in danger of death. With the two days he was in New York City he probably received five hours in sleep total, and most was from jet lag.

His mind wonders towards Olivia. Yeah, she was rude. Yes, he'll admit she was bossy and was far too annoying, but he couldn't help the ping in his chest to tell him to trust her. Wen turned on his side, trying to get comfortable to get some type of sleep. Though, he knew he wouldn't.

Finally, giving up, Wen yanked the cold white sheets of his body, showing his long pajama pants and his black muscle shirt, and he flung his legs towards the side of the double bed. His bare feet meeting the cold wooden floor boards and he tiredly walked towards the kitchen. 'Maybe eating would help me fall asleep.' He thought though he knew it wouldn't work. The only food they stored was macaroni, but they ate that, water bottles, peanuts, sun flower seeds, and ice cream. He decided on the ice cream...

But as Wen walked towards the kitchen, he noticed Olivia's door wide open. Her light was on and she wasn't in her bed. Also he noticed the bathroom door shut. He stopped and looked at the bathroom door. The light shinned under the cracks from under the door. Shrugging it off, he turned his heels, only to hear the door open. Turning once more he spotted Olivia walking out and turning the light off behind her.

She obviously just woke up. Her hair was down and still slightly curled from earlier, but messier. Her makeup was only lightly on her face, and her eyes were trying to adjust to the bright hallway. She wore a yellow tank top, her pink bra strap fell down her shoulder but he knew she didn't care. She wore blue shorts that said along one of the pant legs, 'I love New York', that cut on her high thigh. He knew the logo was being overly used, but he had to admit, she looked good in them. He shook his head, 'no, you don't have feelings for her.' He mentally thought and debated if he did.

He noticed her hand on her stomach, and noticed she had her hand placed on her stomach a lot. He always thought it was a 'girl thing' or it was a nervous habit she picked up, but he only really noticed when they visited the police station. She turned her head towards him and was a bit token back from what he saw. "I um... Wen, hi, what are you doing up?" She asked, obviously confused.

"I was ugh, getting something to eat." He shrugs, "Couldn't sleep. Are you alright?"He asks. He had to, it seemed as though she was being bothered. And with him being the gentleman his mother raised him to be, he had to ask.

"Ugh," she looks back at the bathroom and nervously back at him. "Y-yeah. I was just um, yeah- I couldn't sleep either."

She gives him smile but he knows she lying. Her hair, eyes, makeup and overall aura concluded she was fast asleep and woke up to use the restroom.

He just nods, what was he supposed to say? "Um, do you wanna grab a scoop of ice cream or some-? He starts to ask, but he stops when she turns around towards the bathroom, opens the door, turns the light on and runs inside. He's confused, but that doesn't stop him from seeing what she was doing.

Hesitantly, he peeks inside. It would be horrible if she was using the restroom, or worse, the using the shower. He didn't want to be nosy but he was curious. Why would she run into the restroom if she just went in? Maybe she left her phone or something inside?

But it couldn't be. The police officers had them give them their electronics that had anything to due with Internet. Something to due with people interacting with them, but he shook it off and handed her his precious laptop, phone, navigator, and they even made him go to his hotel and grab his x box and his Play Station 3.

But she wasn't using the restroom or getting ready to strip to use the shower. No, to his surprise, Olivia was on her knees, her hands on either side of the white toilet, her face suffocated in it. He knew she was nauseating and he didn't know what to do.

He quickly walked to her, and held her blond, messy, curly hair back. Wen slowly got on his knees and waited beside her as she continued. He didn't actually look at her vomit, he heard it, but didn't witness it. His eyes wondered on the ceiling, as his other hand that wasn't occupied by messy, blond curls was rubbing circles in her back. This was how he would calm his now ex- girlfriend down when she was overly stressed.

He felt her pull away from the toilet and the flushing of her waste drowned. He looked down at her a returned her hair, pulling his hand away from her back. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and sat with her bare legs out in front of her as her back hit the white toilet. She brought her knees to her stomach and put her head on her knees as she hugged her legs close to her. A small sob escaped her lips, and Wen didn't know what to do.

He never really had to deal with crying girls. He was a manager at a computer business, not a therapist, and he honestly hadn't a clue what to do. He put a hand on her shoulder and watched as she cried. This girl he met ten hours ago, this girl who was, talkative, annoying, but confident just broke down crying and threw up, what was he supposed to say? 'It's alright?' He didn't know that. Heck, he didn't even know what was going on.

"Olivia, what's wrong?" He asked, though he didn't know what to say, he felt awkward saying it. She looked up and sniffed.

Her black makeup that was lightly on her face ran down it along with tears and sweat. He presumed it was from her throwing up. "I... I'm pregnant and I hate it," she says aggressively as she balls her fists.

He watches as new tears roll down her pale face. It does explain a lot, though. The way she held her stomach, the way she'd yell at him then just make him dinner and apologize? Now, throwing up and crying. "You're pregnant?" He asks, though he knew the answer he didn't know any comforting words to give her.

She nods, "Yeah. You know the worst part?" She asks, staring at the black and white tiles as her fists tightened.

"What? Dealing with this? Puking every morning? You don't deserve that." He says. No one does, the pain and exhaustion she must be going through. Though he felt jealous. He thought maybe this women was annoying yet she was attractive to say the least. A sudden wash of guilt hit him. Here he was, feeling jealous when she's the one in pain, she needed the comfort.

She shakes her head, "I don't know who the father is." He just blinks. Did he hear her right? He didn't expect her to be a girl to have sex before marriage. She seemed like a confident, high strung women who wouldn't settle for sex. 'Don't judge a book by its cover I guess...' He though.

"Wait, you don't know who got you pregnant?" He asked as cautiously as he possibly could. Trying to avoid hitting a nerve and her crying to increase.

She shook her head and sniffed. Olivia didn't look at his face, she was too ashamed. Instead she look at her bare feet, hugging her legs closer towards her body, "I ugh..." she swallowed the lump in her throat, "I... I was um..." she couldn't get the nerve to say it. "I... don't know the dad." She concluded.

"I'm really sorry Olivia." He says, and she just nods, still avoiding his gaze. "Are you going to be okay?"

She looks at him and laughs slightly, wiping her eyes as she stands. He looks up at her, and stands as well. "I'll be fine, thank you Wen. I appreciate it." She hugs him and his body is stiff. He doesn't know if he should hug her back or just pull away, but she does first. "It's alright Wen, you can hug me it won't hurt the baby." She smiles.

"Sorry," he grins, "I'm just stunned. I can't believe your pregnant."

She nods. "I know, neither can I." She sighs. An uncomfortable silence falls. "That ice cream sounds pretty good right now," she giggles and puts a hand on her stomach for safe keeping. He notices this time, and he nods.

"Fine, but last time I suggested it you threw up." He jokes, and she only laughs and follows him to the kitchen.

**So, I've updated 3 chapters in one day. I'd say, that's awesome. But if you agree, you should tell me 'cause that makes another chapter! I hope you want another chapter... **

**-SINGS- Don't stop... reviewing!**


	4. Chapter 4

**As I write this, I'm listening to my endless amount of Glee songs on my iPod, now, Raise Your Glass, originality by P!nk. **

**Chapter 4, drama infested. You have been warned... **

She pokes the chicken on her plate with her fork, perplexed at the amount of white goo that surrounded it. She griminess and looks back up at the two police officers. They watched her, smiles plastered their obvious fake concerned faces.

"I don't think chicken is supposed to look like that. Besides, I'm pregnant I need solid foods," she pushes the plate away from her. The nauseating smell entering her nostrils and she remembers her weak stomach, and the pregnancy books warning her to keep away from foul smells. This was defiantly one of them. "Added, I'm a vegetarian."

Standing, she held her breath, acting as if everything was pleasant, she wore the similar fake smile. "We know the food probably won't meet your needs Ms. White, but you need to bear with us." Mrs. Garcia replies, walking away from Wen who was lazily sitting on the couch after a chat with her about the two's livings so far. She was the female officer in which assigned this predicament.

Her short blond curls brought hatred memories flooding into Olivia's mind. She remembers her laughing at her when she desirably commanded her taking her iPod with her, for all her musical productions where stored in there. Mrs. Garcia only laughed and took it from her, placing it in a box with all her other electronics, including Wendell's.

"Mrs. Garcia, I understand why we're stored in here, but you people are acting as if we're rats. I can't just eat anything you throw at me." She huffed, releasing her breath she forgot she was holding in for so long. "I need my baby to be healthy, not mutant."

"Ma'am, we have a lot of crimes going on, we haven't time for your princess moods." Olivia was shocked. She gasped and turned to Wen, who was laughing silently, his hand over his mouth trying to cover the escapes.

She crossed her arms over her chest and angrily walked towards him, he quickly stopped with only a amusing smirk. She glared at him icily, then returned her attention back at the officers. Olivia sat on the arm rest, crossing her legs, one habit she took up ever since the baby enters her.

"Mrs. Garcia, we'll take the beans, water, salad, bread, cheeses and lemonade." She says flatly, looking at her closely. Mrs. Garcia smiles and nods at her. The officer next to her walking to the kitchen with the large cotton bag clutched in her hand ever so polity, he stored her requests in the fridge, and the in the counters.

"No meat?" Wen asks silently staring at the back of her head, as she blocked his view from the officers that stood in front of Olivia.

"Thank you Ms. White. We will store any _personal_," she over exaggerated the word, "items of yours tomorrow." She smiled. "Good day."

She turned her heels and walked towards the door, grabbing her card key to unlock the door to the sweet outdoors that Wen and Olivia couldn't experience.

"Wait," Wen says quickly, causing Mrs. Garcia to stop in her tracks, turn her heels, and fake smile at him. "Have you found them yet?"

The officers exchanged similar glances, one officer stepped up. "We're afraid we haven't. We believe they traveled back over seas."

The two adults smiled. Olivia stood from her sitting position, uncrossing her legs to look at the officers, walking gleeful towards them. "That's great." She beamed. "Then we can leave? We're safe, then."

The officers exchanged glances once more. "I'm..." the same officer began. "I'm afraid that's not accurate. Air forces tried to spot them, we have no visual contact of the sources."

The two went silent. Wen stood from the white sofa. "So, wait, you men to say that... you have no idea where these guys are that literally tried to kill us? And you mean to say, we're staying in this prison until you do?"

"Sir, that was the plan all along. We need you safe and we can't take any chances with this I'm sorry." Mrs. Garcia spoke up.

"Why us? Why not any of the others that were conflicted in this mess?" Olivia asked, getting irate. "Those that died, those that are injured?"

"Ma'am, there's nothing we can do. We're looking for the men, we promise you two will be safe." Mrs. Garcia replies with a grin, taking her key card, opening the door, and soon shutting it and safely locking it.

"We're going to be in here forever." Olivia mutters in awe, holding her stomach while her other hand was up to her trembling lips, she bit her nails nervously, sitting back on the arm rest and rocking slightly.

"Olivia you don't know that. They're going to find-" Wen places a hand on her shoulder as he stood behind her, watching her freak.

She cut him off by staring at him, causing his to jump silently at her movement. "How do you know? Do you have these- these... _mask murderer's _number? Are you physic and can see into the future? No, you can't." She quickly jerked her head back towards the front, staring at the door as if Officer Garcia will walk back in and announce they caught the murders.

"I'm going to have my baby in here," she mutters quietly, but Wen catches in. "I'm going to have to raise my baby in this... this... cell."

"Olivia, stop thinking the worse. Everything 'll be fine. The police officers are doing their jobs and they're going to find these men. You aren't going to raise you baby here." He sighs and sits on the couch, running his hand through his red hair. "We're going to go back to our lives and never seen each other again."

She stands, still staring hopefully at the locked door. "Good." She simply responds, causing him to stare at her in confusion and disappointment. He watches as she stalks towards her bedroom.

"Probably just another, hormone, mood swing, girl thing," he mutters, convincing himself. But it wasn't, or if it was if surly was going on a long time. He's spent exactly three weeks, two days, and five hours with this girl that hated his guts, respected him and trusted him, now hating his guts, again. She was predictable like an open book yet her words where fuzzy and uneven. She was different, and he just assumed it was the baby in her stomach kicking rapidly all the time is why she would be so crabby and yelly.

As he sat at the bar stool the next couple of days later, he wasn't exactly 'in the mood' for burnt bacon and a crappy cup of coffee. He pushed the undercooked eggs around his plate. He heard the door open quickly, and he instantly knew it was Olivia. That, or Casper the Ghost...

He turned on the twisty bar stool high chair and spotted her. Her hand holding her stomach, her other holding her mouth. She opened the door aggressively, running in. She didn't bother closing the door, or even turning the light on. He heard her gags, and he sighed and stood.

He remembered when he woke up to her sickness, and each time he'd hold her hair back, rubbing circles on her back and saying calm, peaceful words to her. She wouldn't say anything, just look at him, wash her face and lock herself back in her bedroom until it was time to eat. He walked towards the restroom, her face, like it was every morning and sometimes, afternoons if she was feeling too queasy, was stuffed in the toilet bowl.

He flicked the lights on, and noticed her clearly. This time, she came prepared. Her hair was in a messy pony tail. He debated whether to comfort her, or to avoid her like she was doing to him. He honestly, didn't have a clue what he was doing wrong. What upset her, what harmed her, but he knew she needed her space. Even if the space was crammed with a stranger you meet when you're about to die in a smelly taxi cab.

As he walked to her, getting ready to comfort her, she stopped, stood, flushed, wiped her mouth and turned to him. Tears falling like they would occasionally every morning. She looked hopeless, like a puppy dying and you can't do anything to help it. He hugged her, and she hugged back. Her nails digging in his back, her tears drenching his tee-shirt but that was the least of his worries.

"Shh, it's okay. Everything 'll be okay," he assured her, and she keep crying. He just held her and let her cry. Sometimes getting it out with tears does help a person, and sometimes you just need to cry. She sniffed and pulled away from him.

"Wen... I wasn't completely honest with you about my pregnancy." She looked up at him through glassy eyes, her lips trembling, her eyes staring at his uneasily.

Shocked, he looked down at her short, small body. "What do you mean?" He asked, clearly confused.

She swallowed and wiped her eyes, looking at his chest. She couldn't look in his eyes, she couldn't see his disappointed look. "I was raped."

**I'm sorry for that slap in the fast, but I was planning that since the beginning. Well, when I was tying she was three months prego, I was thinking, 'SHE COULD HAVE BEEN RAPED!' So, yeah. I hope you don't hate me for it, and trust me, I know the relationship deal isn't really... there... take my word, it will be there. I'm already writing chapter five, trust me, it will be up TODAY! I just need to think what's going to happen. **

**So, if you wanna give me tips, ideas, anything 'll be useful.**

**I find it funny, I'm now listening to Glee's, Keep holding on, and I feel the song goes PEFECTLY to Olivia. **

**Don't stop reviewing. Enough said. **


	5. Chapter 5

**I feel like a hypocrite... I told you wonderful readers that I would post yet another chapter connecting to my story, for I was sick. Believe it or not, colds run even when you aren't in school. **

**I'm still sniffle-y, and crap but I managed to grab my laptop and type this little chapter for you.**

At the least perplex, Wen released her gently, for he did not realize how close the two adults seemed. He stared at her, his face in confusion, doubt, and mostly fret. He felt uneasy, as if he would fall over and faint. She cried harder, the tears running guiltily down her light cream covered face. He was taken back. 'She, raped? It couldn't be. Hell, it could very much be. They're in New York City for God's sake.'

She took a step forward, her hand extended to take his shoulder but he took another step back. 'Was this it?' She thought to herself, watching the scene unfold. 'Was this the end our their friendship?' or whatever it really was. It was more of a brother sister type moment. Where he'd help her out, she would be angry with him, whatever the reason may be, and somehow they'd forgive each other. 'But not this time...'

She took a step back. Leaving a wide gap in between the two figures she stared at him with sorrow eyes. 'He hates me.' She thinks, 'He thinks I'm some kind of monster.' She sniffed and shook her head. 'No,' she immediately thought, sharply, 'No, no, this cannot happen... Not again.' And her mind intently drifted back to Danny. She shuddered, more tears fell but more from her ex than Wendell.

He didn't say anything. More admiring the poor girl cry. Her face turned to sorrow, to irate, to regret. It was at the very least odd to see, but he was too dazed to respond. Even if he did respond, he knew he wouldn't have very accurate advice. Something more along the lines of, 'Oh, um... oh. Olivia I'm sorry...' and he would blush, looking at the stupid black and white tiles. Guilt would enter him because here he was, feeling stupid for embarrassing himself to the girl he might possibly have stirring for, when she's been through hell.

Her stomach fell. She felt her mind spinning and it hurt to her eyes to look around. She inhaled nosily, huffing, and whipping her tears vigorously though she didn't feel it. She bitterly walked past him. Ducking her head away from him as she passed his actual body, for she didn't want him to meet her pitiful gaze.

He turned, watching her for a brief moment until she disappeared inside her room. Running his hand through his shagged hair he looked around the bathroom. Thinking on how to make her fell better, but alas, he hadn't any answer. It was only breakfast time and he already found someway to make her feel like shit. Even if he was oblivious to what it actually was, he still managed to it, even if she was already feeling horrible.

Olivia sat on her bed crying. Her knees ducked under her as she sat and it pained her legs and knees but that was the last on her mind. She hugged her body, as it would be the only protection she has. She looked at her green covered bed spread, tears falling from her cheek staining the beautiful cotton from green to black from her adhesive like, sticky, now runny mascara that staining her cheeks and her bed.

She wiped her eyes. It was as if this was all she even done, was cry. All her life brought pain to her. From her childhood to her adulthood. She felt as if she was alone, every step of the way. Like trusting someone was going to haunt her and comeback and burn her. She moved her legs, from which she was seated on and where beginning to fall asleep painfully, to her side. She looked at the door, determined she should walk out, apologize and beg for forgiveness to Wen, and he's look at her and smile that cute dimple infested smile he wore too well, and they'd hug and everything would return to normal. Well, as normal as living in a box would be.

"Life doesn't work in fairytale endings..." She told herself softly. Her eyes wondered to her hands that she didn't realize was clutching a soft, crumbled tissue. Looking up, she thought back to Danny. How, he and her were perfectly aliened. He was great to her, but once she told him about her pregnancy he lost all trust.

She chuckled, but it was sad and halfhearted, "You'd think a boyfriend like him would be comforting to being raped and soon enough pregnant?" She told herself, her heart aching every time his name would pop up, soon enough his face would too. He soon kicked her out of his condo, leaving her alone, scared and empty.

She didn't have anywhere to go. The reason she moved to New York City was to be with her Danny. She had no support. Managing to make her own money with barley starting off as a Broadway star she managed to stay at a motel. After a week or so, she met Lanna, her roommate and best friend. She asked Olivia to move in with her, seeing as she's pregnant and basically homeless.

Olivia's smile beamed on her face thinking back at Lanna. It wasn't like everyday you'd meet such a great friend like that, and she was thankful. Standing, Olivia threw her tissue away, wiped her eyes and nose with the back of her hand, she walked out her room and into the living room.

Wen wasn't there. She knew instantly the only place left would be in his bedroom. Knocking softly, she heard movement but it was more of a body turning. Confused, Olivia turned the knob quietly, propping the door open slightly she peeked in. Seeing it was dark she opened the door fully.

She laughed silently to herself, seeing the messiness in his room. Cloths scattered. Papers, most likely from his business, was the only neatly stacked thing. She moved her vision towards his bed, which he easily slept in. A sad smirk formed her lips as she saw how unaffected his body was. It wasn't like she thought he wouldn't be able to sleep with this much information now out, more of sleeping on and off. Maybe being bothered by her situation, but he sleep freely and calmly.

His arm stretched comfortably beside his head, as the other laid beside his side. Moving her feet silently she walked towards him. Unaware that she was a foot away from where he sleep she felt awkward watching his body rest. Her eyes tricked down his chest, realizing his blanket was not on top of his. Coincidently, her eyes traveled downward, the erg of want more from this man pinged her and she stopped her eyes from going lower down his body any longer. She snapped them towards his face, and backed away.

Turning her heels Olivia left the man's room. It was only 10:00, how could he sleep so peacefully? After her cold shower, Olivia returned to her room. For she did not want to run into a certain red head, and honestly, she didn't want anymore pitiful looks he gave her. It made her feel weak, uninvited and mostly uncontrolled. And this Olivia, the Broadway diva, she needed to control.

After a moment of Olivia's reading, a small knock enters and echoed through the neat room. Olivia stopped her reading, and looked up. Her crossed legs on her bed, her book resting in her hands ever so comforting. She closed her book, losing her page the last of her worries, she uncrossed her legs, and made her way to the door. She held the doorknob, debating weather to see his sorrow filled face or to ignore him, and get back to her book.

She sighed, "Can't ignore him forever," she silently explained, opening the door. Unsurprisingly Wendell stood, his hands in his denim jeans, his shoulders tense, his eyes on the floor once he met her gaze. She swallowed nervously. "Hello Wendell."

He looked at her, giving her a small grin. "Hey... I just... I just wanted to stop by-" he stopped himself, realizing he sounds stupid. "I mean, like, how are you doing?"

She raises a brow. "I'm doing wonderful, Wen." She sarcastically states, placing her hands behind her back.

"I mean, like..." He looks at her and trails off.

She nods, "I understand. But, I'm feeling the same thing I was feeling once the doctor's told me I was pregnant. I feel horrible. I didn't ask for this. This man, I don't even know, took my virginity away from me, and... knocked me up. I will look at this baby, and... it won't know who their father is." She looks down at her bare feet. "Or their mother..."

"You're... giving it up?"

She looks up at him. "If you put it like that it makes me seem like a horrible mother." She sniffed, fighting the tears that desperately want to fall. "I just... I didn't ask for any of this, Wen..." she looks up, her eyes glassy, "I'm 21 for Pete's sake... It's not like I can be a mother. Especially if I look at it, and it doesn't have my eyes. It doesn't have my nose, my ears, my mouth. I can't look at this baby, and see the man who sexually assaulted me... I just- I just... I can't do it."

Wen nods, he doesn't say anything. "And, I lost the guy I thought I loved. I lost my shelter, and my friends didn't want any part of me..." She continued.

"So, where do you stay? Sleep, eat?"

She chuckles. "At the moment, here... But, I met a friend, she's now my best friend and I... I stay with her." A tear falls, she looks at the ground. "I'm just," she looks up, "I feel like I'm not good enough. In front of anyone..."

He smirks, "Oh come on... You're, Olivia White. The Broadway super star. I'm sure a lot of people look up to you."

She sniffs, "Well, I still find it annoying that you don't know about Broadway... But, thank you." He smiles and nods.

A silence falls over the two, but uncomfortable wasn't it. "... Olivia," she looks up at him and nods. "I... I wanna ask you, on a date." He smiles.

"Oh..." dazed at the statement, she looks at his chest. "Yeah, but... we're trapped inside this, pretty much prison cell... I don't think we can-"

"Trust me," he smirks and walks away, calling back at her, "Tonight, 8:00..." She only smiles, turns her heels, and shuts her door.

**Fluff: I'm not a whiz at, but, I enjoy romantic happiness. So, I hope you enjoy my next chapter, on the two love birds date. I really don't know what's going to happen but I'm already picturing the date. **

**So, if you want drama in it, humor, or just plain, cliché romantic-ness, tell me in a review. I's appreciate it. Reviews= chapter 6. :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**I apologize times a million zillion.**

**If you all hate me, I understand. I'm sure I lost a ton of viewers, it's been too long. I actually was cleaning out my computer and stumbled across my next chapter, edited it a bit, and updated. I'm truly sorry. **

**I don't own anything related to Lemonade Mouth.**

She couldn't see it, of course, but it was always nice to _hear_ it. The way the rain bounced off the outside of her walls made her miss the outdoors even more. She sighs to herself when her hands brushed each item of clothing. All she could find in the hell hole she called a closet was filled with her Broadway costumes, tee-shirts, shorts, sweatpants, mismatched socks, and a sundress that was _not_ in season.

It wasn't like she had a _choice_ to pack up her whole wardrobe. In fact, the police officer was waiting in the other room when she _had been_ packing. Explaining to her to hurry, and that she wasn't going to be there _too _long. It'd be a week of two tops, they convinced. So, she threw as little amount of clothes, including her Broadway costumes just in case she wanted to rehearse in front of the mirror, as possible, and hoped she was released before too long.

She tugged her shorts over her waist, hugging herself sluggishly, and sneaked into Wen's room. He'd been in the kitchen that afternoon, telling her not to exit her room unless she felt the erg to get sick, to shower, or to use the restroom. Ruffling through his collections of tee- shirts, she concludes to one that was a plain, fading grey.

Olivia sneaks back into her room. Curling her hair, she constantly tugs on the tee. It touched comfortably, but, what if he didn't like it? What if it was too much? She stands, and tells herself to return it. But as the door swings open, Wen's fist is lightly balled, a flower was in his hand, and an almost anxious expression was worn.

She smiles lightly when facing him, and takes a sudden step back. "Hey."

He eyes her, "going somewhere?" he asks, bringing his fist down to his side.

She flushes, "er… I was… um, just going," she huffs and drops her head, "hi."

He smirks, "hi. Is that my shirt?"

She nods, tugging it once more, "I hope you don't mind. It's just, I didn't really pack for a date so…"

"I like it."

She raises a brow, "you do?"

He shrugs, "Sure. You look comfortable. Oh," he suddenly looks very clumsy and awkward. He hands the flower to her with a tight grin, "here."

She takes it, "thanks."

Its then she notes it had been the flower beside the sink, it had been fake of course, but it was the thought that counted, right?

He nods, "shall we?"

She blinks, "sure."

Lemonade Mouth

Olivia:

For a moment, we're simply staring.

His slightly smirked mouth makes me smirk myself.

I look away and break the relaxed silence with: "So this is what tall people see?"

Hands resting comfortably, yet a bit awkwardly on my hips, I surveyed the kitchen from where I stood on a chair pressed up alongside the counter.

Wen smirks, "I can get it myself, you know." he says with a hint of chuckle underneath his breath.

I had mounted up there to look for the fudge brownie mix and tub of vanilla frosting. Wen insisted we make desert after the meal he prepared (which, I must admit, was delicious). Currently I was standing about a foot and a half higher than usual, gawking around and witnessing things I hadn't observed before at my short height.

And those belongings were creating me to feel additionally miserable than I already was. _Everything_ was dusty. The top of the refrigerator, the bookcases adjoining living room, the television, and the coffee table was all top coated with dust. And I just chanced to be one of those individuals who were bound to unpolluted whatever they saw that was untidy. Frequently, that was a decent thing. However, all I wanted was newly baked fudge brownies saturated with vanilla frosting and ice cream. Distresses like mine just couldn't be cured any other way.

"Did you find it?"

I glance down at him and shrug, coming down from the elevated height, "Unless you want vanilla frosting with dust? Then no."

He nodded, "it's fine," he pushed the chair back by the bar stool.

"Thank you."

"What?"

"Thank you," I repeat.

He blinks, "for what?" he half chuckles, under anxiety, or simply because the thought of me thanking someone was typically funny, I couldn't tell.

"Everything: the meal, this night, this date." I shrug, "It was sweet."

He shrugs, "I'm a sweet guy."

I nod, "you really are."

He grins, "So…"

"So?"

"Goodnight?"

I blink and nod a tad wretched, "yeah… 'night."

He awkwardly scratched the back of his head and walks towards his room, shutting the door softly. With a sigh, I begin my hopeless journey to my room, only to halt when Wen's door suddenly unbolts while my hand gripping the nob, Wen emerges.

"I'm sorry. I usually don't kiss on the first date but-" he cuts himself off by placing his breath on mine. His hand cupping my check, while the other pressed the back of my neck, pushing my head forward a bit more.

I blink, and gasp.

It was so sudden. Everything happened too quickly. His body rushing out the room, to him pushing my hair back and gripping my neck tightly with a soft touch. His lips caressing my so gratefully, yet it was hard and hungry, as if he hadn't eaten anything for months. As if he had never kissed a girl and years and his hormones finally said, "enough" and all he needed was a pair of sweet lips and he was set.

But it was different. There was something that was between our lips. It wasn't just lust; it was something we both needed for a while. It was sweet, yet it was rough. It happened quickly, yet dragged on so long I couldn't breathe, but I didn't pull away. I couldn't, I didn't want to.

Debating to kiss back, I do so, and regret nothing when his tongue caresses my bottom lip and I allow.

Then why did everything feel so wrong? Why was I so uncomfortable in his arms? Why was my mind screeching at me to stop, and why did I have the sudden urge to pull away?

He tugs away from my lips too quickly for me to protest.

He sighs, and backs away, red faced. "Um… Night, Olivia."

I nod, "night."

And with that, his door shut. And I stood there for about five minutes just staring at his entrance, my eyes outlining the doorframe, then scanning to the nob. Waiting for it to open again, waiting for him to kiss me without apologizing, to tell me he had fun and would like to do it again.

Hearing his bedside lamp click, and the light from under his door turning black, I swallow the lump that was forming in my throat from the begging to the date, until this moment, and turn towards my door. Giving one last once over behind my shoulder at his door, sigh, and enter my room.

I can't feel like this.

It was a wonderful date, what more could I ask for? What more did I want? I wasn't sure, but I wanted it. My mind racking my emotions with pain of… something. What was it, lust? Passion? Did I have a _crush?_

How could I not? Not seeing a decent looking man in months will allow my hormones to race. But I can't do that to Wen. He's far too sweet for my pleasure. I can't use him.

He did after all kiss me.

But he was sweet about it.

Yet he apologized.

But he was _sweet_ about it.

It was too hasty…

But he was so damn sweet about it…

The pros triumphed the cons, and I found myself thinking of ways on how to get him back. I smirked to myself, I couldn't help it.

Let the games begin, Wendell.


End file.
